Strange Angel
by Satin-n-Crimson
Summary: A twisted and yes modernized look at Phantom of the Opera.
1. Prologue

**Strange Angel**

Disclaimer: The Characters in this story don't belong to me, they belong to Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber and others associated. If I had the chance to own anything from Phantom of the Opera it would be Erik…. sighs if only dreams could come true.

_**Lyrics**_

_**Indicates the Phantom/Erik speaking**_

_Thoughts_

**Prologue-**

Her world was tumbling… falling, crashing into the darkness. She had no where to go, no one to turn too. Had it been her fault? No, they had assured her of that, but she felt like it was. After all… she had been arguing with them, she hadn't wanted to go and she had gotten her way.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered, her angelic voice crack, becoming broken like her soul was now, "So sorry." Her head hung, her hand gripping the pill bottle tighter and tighter until her knuckles were white and her fingers throbbed, " I should've been there!"

She was beginning to feel dizzy, slowly she gazed downward, a smile creeping over her features as she dropped the empty pill bottle from her grasp, as it fell so did drops of blood from her wrists, " No. What I love best..." She slowly fell to her knees," Little Lotte said, is when I'm asleep in my bed, and The Angel of Music sings songs in my head..." She collapsed; drawing what she hoped was her last breathes. Then when she felt she could hold on no longer she sung the last of the poem her Mother had told her each night when she little...

_**The Angel of Music sings songs in my head...**_

**__**

End of Prologue...


	2. Chapter 1: You Were Once

**Strange Angel**

Disclaimer: The Characters in this story don't belong to me, they belong to Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber and others associated. If I had the chance to own anything from Phantom of the Opera it would be Erik…. sighs if only dreams could come true.

_**Lyrics**_

_**Indicates the Phantom/Erik speaking**_

_Thoughts_

**Chapter One: **You Were Once…

She hung her head, she felt so ashamed now, especially at the fact it hadn't worked, that she had been discovered and by Meg. Poor Meg, Christine thought bitterly, she wished that for once her best friend wasn't so caring and concerned. Now here she was being released from the Hospital a month after her attempt at suicide and to Annette Giry of all people. So much for second attempts now Christine again bitterly thought.

By now Christine Daae was nothing of the girl she had been once. She was quiet, reserved and brooding now. Even her eyes had become dull and lifeless. Christine Daae was no longer and all that remained was an empty, hollow shell. She hardly ate, the trays the nurse brought to her were returned to them empty, but most of the food went down the toilet since the waste baskets would be to obvious. She was painfully thin and pale. A ghost in a way… yes, a ghost, practically nonexistent.

"Ready to go?" A most stern woman asked politely, a hint of French to her voice, but the stern woman smiled slowly, an old hand coming to rest on the girl's shoulder, " Worry not Christine, all will be fine now."

She said nothing to this woman… her Best Friend's mother, she had nothing to say, but she moved forward, head hung downward as if she was entranced by the movement of her feet, one in front of the other.

On the ride to the Girys' house, she did not look out the window, she said nothing, occasionally nodded yes or no, but remained silent as ever, never looking up even if her neck was beginning to grow stiff from it's current position. But the pain was welcomed, if she had to live then pain would be her true friend from now on.

Finally the car rolled to a stop and Christine's brown gaze rose but for a moment and then lowered. Home sweet home, she thought with sarcastic amusement, but it was not a friendly thought… it was anything but nice. Nothing would ever be the same now.

Annette Giry slowly shook her head, this girl… once so lively was in bad shape. Everything had been going for the girl until that fateful day a month and a half ago when her parents had been killed in a horrific car crash. Taking a deep breath, Annette smiled solemnly towards the girl, " Meg has fixed your room up. She is pleased to have you with us as am I." Giving Christine's shoulder a squeeze, Annette got out of the car and watched as the girl did the same.

" I'll… get my bags." Christine offered, amazed Mrs Giry could even hear her whispery voice. Shuffling around the car, the sixteen year old retrieved her bags, a small suitcase and duffle bag, her backpack already slung over one shoulder and slowly followed the woman into the house… and it would never be home.

"Meg! Meg Giry enough fussing with that room. Get down here and help with dinner!" Annette called up the stairs to her daughter and then turned to Christine, " Go on upstairs, dinner will be ready in an hour."

Then suddenly a fairly pretty little blond haired teen bounded down the stairs and paused, " Christine! I thought you wouldn't be here until tomorrow!" Skipping about four steps, Meg took her friend into a hug, but at the lack of reaction from the girl, she let go and stepped back a concerned look crossing her features, " Christine…"

…_**Christine…**_

" Huh… wha? Oh." She forced an apologetic smile, "Meg. Hi. Sorry… I'm…" She shook her head, she felt as if she was in a trance… and that voice? Where had it come from? Had Meg or her Mother heard it? Christine stole a quick glance at each, apparently neither had, strange… , " I'm just tired."

Meg nodded, her demeanor becoming quickly somber, " Okay. If you need any---"

" Meg. Come, time to make dinner, it is your turn." Annette quickly spoke up, it was obvious Christine would be on the road to recovery for a long time and Meg's hovering, busy-body ways wouldn't be much help at the moment. Snatching her daughter's arm, Annette dragged her into the kitchen leaving Christine to be alone.

She did not hear the argument that was exchanged between Meg and her mother, instead the brown haired young woman's mind was else where, on what went wrong, on what was wrong with her and why was all this happening to her… obviously no one cared, not even God. Christine had dragged herself into the depths of utter despair.

Placing a shaking, slender white hand on the stair railing, Christine slowly made her ascent to what was now her new room. It had only been two days after her ordeal that she learned of the fate of her old home. Her parents had been deep in debt and the auction of the house and everything in it had paid that off… lucky her, she thought bitterly and slowly entered what used to be the Giry's guest room.

How much it had changed… correction, how much it had been changed for her. In fact it seemed as if she had somehow stepped out of the Giry's house and back into her own. Yes, maybe this was all just some strange dream she was having, letting herself fall onto her bed, Christine closed her eyes thinking that if she counted backwards from twenty and then opened them again all would be as it had been before.

Exactly twenty seconds later, Christine opened her eyes, a small giggle escaping her full lips, " It was all just a dream…" She gazed around happily at the sight before her. Her rose print comforter slightly askew, her small collection of stuffed animals haphazardly placed in one corner and on her desk, her most precious possession, a blown glass rose that played a melody she had loved as a child. Bounding up from her bed, Christine ran to her door, threw it open and stopped dead in her tracks, " No…no…" She shook her head wildly, curls of nutmeg brown spilling this way and that, her brown irises dancing as tears engulfed them and then rolled down her cheek. She stumbled backwards falling to her knees on the hardwood floor, " Please… make this end… please…" She began to sob, her sickly slim frame curling into a ball on the floor as she cried herself to sleep.

End of Chapter One


	3. Chapter 2: Into Darkness

**Strange Angel**

****

Disclaimer: The Characters in this story don't belong to me, they belong to Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber and others associated. If I had the chance to own anything from Phantom of the Opera it would be Erik…. sighs if only dreams could come true.

_**Lyrics**_

_**Indicates the Phantom/Erik speaking**_

_Thoughts_

**Chapter Two: **Into Darkness

" Mama! Mama! Hurry, quickly!" Meg yelled down the stairs after having been sent up to check on her friend who was now lying on the floor of her new room in a fetal position.

Without haste, Annette hurried up the stairs and towards Christine's room only to grant her daughter a glare, " Meg. She's asleep, stop being so paranoid. Now go, finish your homework, I'll handle Christine." Once her daughter had sulked off, Annette carefully touched the sleeping girl's shoulder, " Christine."

…_**Christine…**_

For a moment, Christine stirred and mumbled something before her eyes fluttered open, " Madame, I'm sorry… I fell asleep…" She slowly lifted herself from the floor, " Literally it seems. I'm just so t--"

" Tired." Annette face was fully of worry for her new charge, " I'll bring you up a tray of food, you can eat it when you like and then get some much needed rest." The stern woman moved over to Christine's bed and turned it down for her, " No doubt those hospital beds granted you much rest if none at all."

Meekly, Christine nodded… tonight food actually didn't sound so bad. Patiently she waited, eyes rimmed red from crying studying her room just a bit more. She found herself coming back to one spot time after time however, the large mirror that seemed permanently attached to the wall of her room.

When Annette returned with a tray of food, she too found it curious that Christine seemed so lost in staring at the mirror, " It was built into the wall… odd I know, but this house is old so odd things are to be expected." She smiled and placed the tray on the girl's small desk, " If you need anything else just let me or Meg know." She turned to leave the girl, but turned back when she asked a simple question.

" Am I to return to school tomorrow?"

" If you feel up to it you may." Annette turned and left this time, bidding Christine a goodnight as she closed the door and then gave a silent prayer for her that would not go unheard.

Once Madame Giry had left her alone, Christine eyed the food and then forced herself to eat a few bites, but then she instantly began to feel ill. Taking a drink of water from the glass on the tray, the sixteen year old moved to the musical rose and gave it three good turns and then began to twirl around her room to the melody that floated from it and sang along with it words she had made up to the tune a long time ago…

**_Night-time sharpens,  
heightens each sensation . . .  
Darkness stirs and  
wakes imagination . . .  
Silently the senses  
abandon their defences . . ._**

Suddenly she paused in her twirling and singing… a shadow in the mirror, something had moved in her room? With the music hauntingly playing around her, Christine moved cautiously towards the reflective glass and ran her fingers across it.

… _**Christine…**_

Gasping, she jumped back in fright, " Who… who's there?" She muttered in fear, her body tingling and electrified by it, " How… do you know my name? Who are you?" She asked quietly.

… _**Christine… Angel…**_

Her brows furrowed slowly, this voice though soft and gentle made no sense, " What sort of cruel trick is this? Meg you're not being---" Again a shadow danced across the mirror, causing her too stumbled backwards, startled by what she saw, " Angel?"

**._.. Christine…_**

Wide eyed, Christine realized it had answered her back… but she was still frightened, then she remember what Madame Giry had said too her about the house being old, " Yes Angel?"

… _**Sleep Christine, sleep… all is well… I am here now.**_

Quite suddenly Christine found herself feeling drowsy, her eyelids becoming very heavy with each passing second. Then the music began growing louder, the gentle voice repeating the words she had sung and continuing on with the song as she lowered into her bed and curled up, her covers mysteriously wrapping snug around her like the arms of a lover. Her vision became cloudy and before she finally drifted off to sleep, she could have sworn she saw a white mask staring at her as the music began to wind down.

End of Chapter Two


	4. Chapter 3: Learn to be Lonely

**Strange Angel**

Disclaimer: The Characters in this story don't belong to me, they belong to Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber and others associated. If I had the chance to own anything from Phantom of the Opera it would be Erik…. sighs if only dreams could come true.

AN: Thanks for the reviews! Keep'em coming!

_**Lyrics**_

_**Indicates the Phantom/Erik speaking**_

_Thoughts_

**Chapter Three: **Learn to be Lonely

That morning, Christine rose from her bed and gazed around slowly. It took her a moment, but she finally remembered where she was and why. Sighing, she tossed back the covers only to find something most curious… fitting nicely to her body was a delicate silk nightgown, but problem was she hadn't remembered ever changing out of the clothes she had worn from the Hospital. But then again maybe she had and just didn't remember it… yes that had to be it, after all she was desperately tired last night. Finally convinced, Christine headed to the bathroom to take a shower and get ready for school.

Annette had offered to drive the girls to school, but Christine had quickly insisted the usual way of traveling, walking to the bus stop… mostly because she needed to speak with Meg alone.

Once they were out of the Giry's front yard, Christine cleared her throat, " Meg… I, um… I need to tell you something." Her stride slowed a bit as she glanced at her best friend.

" Okay, what's up?" Meg stared curiously back with clear blue eyes, her mind worried gravely for her dear friend.

" I… I had the strangest dream last night." The brown haired young woman glanced to her friend taking note of the worry upon her French featured face, " I heard a voice, it called to me… called my name. It seemed so real, you don't think--"

"Christine you've been through so much…" The worry in Meg's face increased, had her dearest friend become delusional, "You were so tired, you probably were dreaming and imagining at the same time."

Inwardly Christine let out a long sigh, it was plainly obvious that Meg thought she was going nuts, but then again she really didn't blame her friend either, " Yeah…" She agreed sadly, " I'm sure you're right."

By now they had reached the bus stop and barely in time as they quickly boarded the bus meeting a small assemble of curious stares, most of them directed towards Christine. Meg however wasn't as passive as her troubled friend and glared at those who dared to entertain the idea of even looking at her, " Come on Christine, there's a place in the back." Taking the girl's arm, Meg seemingly became possessed by her Mother's take charge attitude and the ride to school was a somewhat pleasant one.

The first half of the day passed strangely well. Sure she had some various looks tossed her way, but nothing remotely worth time and worry on her part. But Christine knew why the day was so far going smoothly, after all her and Meg shared the same classes… but now in the second half of the day the young woman found herself alone in the world because Meg was a dancer and she was a songbird and thus the two friends would see little of each other until the final bell.

Begrudgingly Christine made her way towards her choral class, but without Meg to shield her, her peers became a little bolder with their stares and whispers as Christine kept her eyes glued to the movement of her feet as she walked.

"She tried to kill herself…"

"I heard it was an overdose…"

"She slit her wrists…"

"You're kidding…"

Her brown eyes quivered, tears threatening as she studied the movements of her feet much more. Soon she made it to her class and entered quickly, her body pressing back against the door as she tried to catch her breath. Once her breathing was normal and her lungs didn't feel as if they were going to burst forth from her chest, Christine lifted her gaze and found the room to be relatively empty except for her choral teacher, " Afternoon Mr. Andre"

Slowly the man's gaze rose and he smiled slightly and then stood, " Miss Daae it's so good to have you back." And then his smile faded, " However, I must give you this and excuse you from class today."

Taking the folded note from her teacher's hand, Christine opened it slowly and frowned, "Thank you Mr. Andre." Turning with vigor, the young woman stomped out the door and passed once again her snickering and whispering peers and towards the school's main office almost running into Meg.

" Whoa… Christine are you---"

" No. Meg I'm not fine, or okay or anything else." The usually even tempered teen shoved the note at her friend to read.

" You're kidding… the school counselor?" Meg's eyes met her friend's which held not only anger, but hate and sorrow, " Don't go."

" Excuse me…"

" Don't go. Skip it, play hooky, skip the meeting." Meg offered perhaps a little to knowingly.

" I…" For half a second Christine fought with herself, " Okay, will you come with me?"

" Yeah right." Meg laughed sardonically, " I got dance next and who teaches dance? My mother. No way, sorry Christine you're on your own." At that moment the bell rung giving students their five minutes to get to class, " Gotta run!"

Watching her friend leave, Christine felt dejected and not to mention abandoned. Turning she eyed the door of the office just a few steps away, but then she eyed the door leading to her freedom outside and found herself moving towards that instead as though some invisible force was causing her to move in that direction.

Resting her hand on the silver colored handle which would let her out, Christine hesitated when suddenly the door opened as if by it's own accord and the brown haired teen stumbled forward as she felt two hands about her, " Let me go." She looked up with a look of determination planted on her face that slowly faded, " Please…"As did all her anger as she beheld the owner of the two hands.

End of Chapter Three


	5. Chapter 4: I Remember Her

**Strange Angel**

Disclaimer: The Characters in this story don't belong to me, they belong to Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber and others associated. If I had the chance to own anything from Phantom of the Opera it would be Erik…. sighs if only dreams could

come true.

**AN: **Thank you all who reviewed and read my story! Here's another chapter, hope you enjoy and keep reviewing!

_**Lyrics**_

_**Indicates the Phantom/Erik speaking**_

_Thoughts_

**Chapter Four: **I Remember Her

" I could let you go, but then you'd fall."

Christine found herself trying to recall where she had seen this man's face before. He was tall, his brown hair falling just about the shirt of his collar, twin hazel eyes danced and smiled at her as though they were indeed old friends, " Oh, right." Using his hands to steady herself, Christine returned fully onto her own two feet, "Thanks." She smiled somewhat.

"You don't remember me do you?" He laughed, "You lost your scarf, I waded out and brought it back to you from the sea."

She thought a moment, all of this sounded so familiar to her, "Raoul?" She asked with a narrowing of her eyes, and that's when he smiled a nodded confirming her answer, " Oh my… it's been so long."

"You were five." He smiled, his arm circling around her shoulders and lead her back inside the school, "And my have you grown up." He flashed a warm filled smile at the girl.

Something inside Christine was hesitant to this sudden appearance of an old acquaintance, something was screaming at her not to trust him and yet something else wanted to trust him, he could protect her… couldn't he? And that smile, it made her knees feel funny, " Um… thanks." Looking down, the young woman did the best she could to hide the fact she was blushing, " So, what are you doing here?" Her features took a quizzical appearance, "You are a little old for school Raoul." He was after all seven years older than she was.

The handsome smile broke a moment as he chuckled at her question, "Yes Little Lotte that is very true," The smile returned, it felt good to say that nickname again, "But the reason of my presence is that I'm interning here with your school's counselor."

Suddenly a pit rose in her stomach, "Oh…" Covering her sudden act of rebelliousness, Christine smiled and joked, "A Shrink huh?"

"Yes, a Shrink." He eyed her curiously, she didn't look good at all, her face was drawn, and she seemed far to skinny for her height let alone a girl of sixteen who would soon be seventeen and graduating when the year was out… if he remembered correctly, " Are you in a free hour right now?"

"No, I…" She had to come up with something fast, "I was headed for the office actually, but I needed some air." There, that would work wouldn't it? Biting slightly at her lower lip, Christine gazed into his green and brown eyes for any signs he didn't believe her little fib.

She was hiding something, she wasn't acting like the Christine he knew in their childhood and pre-teen years. She was never so drawn and full of secrets, she used to confide in him about anything, "So how are your parents?"

At that moment she wanted to reel, the world around her seemed to swim. Her brown stare danced a moment as she fought the tears, " They're…" She couldn't say it, " They're…" Taking a deep breath, she finally let the word fall out, "dead." Folding her arms, Christine shied away from her childhood friend and leaned against the wall, her head bent low, eyes studying her shoes.

He wanted to hold her, to dry the tears he knew she was crying. He wouldn't ask why, because apparently the circumstances were anything but pleasant, "I'm sorry." He whispered and placed a hand on her shoulder.

Feeling the pressure of his hand, Christine shot up, tears leaving trails down her cheeks, " You and the rest of the world." She snapped at him, " But sorry doesn't make it right, sorry doesn't kill the pain…" She could feel her fingernails digging into her palms as she tightened her fists more in anger, " Sorry doesn't bring them back so I can say it!" Giving him a hard shove out of her way, Christine took off down the hall, she didn't care where she was going as long as it was where no one would find her for a while.

As she ran, she never heard him call her name. She pushed herself to go faster with each second, she didn't even hear the bell ring as students filed out of the classrooms only to be pushed aside by a crying girl in a hurry to get anywhere but here. The world went by her in a blur, she didn't even feel the bodies of those she rush passed or forced aside in her mad dash.

When she finally stopped, Christine clutched at her chest in agony. Her lungs were burning, taking big glups of air, the sixteen ear old girl fell to her knees and curled into a sniffling ball. Her body shook with each sob that racked it, "Why…" She asked the silence breathlessly, "Why!" Hearing her anger echo back at her, Christine blinked and slowly sat up, her eyes adjusting to the semi-darkness as she tried to figure out where she might be.

* * *

At first he had debated on going after her, he felt to blame after all he hadn't known about her parents and obviously she would have rather avoided the subject. He stood there a moment watching the students filter passed him, some of them talking about how evil of a teacher Mr. or Mrs. So and So was. But then some of the subject matter began to change into gossip.

"She's lost it."

"Oh, I know, did you see her running down the hall like that?"

"I feel sorry for her."

"They should lock her up somewhere ya know, like a mental ward or something."

"Really."

"Excuse me."

Raoul blinked as he felt a light tap on his shoulder and turned around to see a lanky blond haired girl the same age as Christine looking at him with curious blue eyes, "Yes?"

" Monsieur De Changy?" The girl asked.

"Yes, but please call me Raoul." The girl looked familiar, " Can I help you?"

"I thought so. I'm Meg, Christine's friend." She smiled, "We met once I think."

"Aah." He smiled, that's how she was familiar, "Yes we did, you danced in the same talent competition Christine sang in here a few years ago. You got third place, Christine was second and that Carlotta girl was first… even if we all thought she sounded more like a toad." They both laughed at that, "Did you happen to see where Christine went?"

" Nope, but this is her free hour coming up and sometimes she's in the auditorium to practice." Somehow her best friend's friend looked worried and Meg of course being her nosy little self wondered why, " I can show you were it is. Come on."

"Meg."

"Hold that thought." The blond rolled her eyes and turned around to face her mother.

"Where do you think you are going? You're my aid this hour. Get back into that classroom." The stern woman pointed her finger back down the hall from which they both had come.

"I know Ma, but I was going to show Raoul here where Christine spends her free hour." Meg explained sweetly, hoping to possibly get herself out of playing gofer for her dear mother today.

Annette Giry studied the man standing just behind her daughter. She knew who he was, but why he was here had to be answered, "This school does not allow visitors Monsieur."

" Madame Giry, how nice to see you again." Raoul smiled, " And I assure you I am not visiting, in fact I'm going to be at your charming school for quite sometime seeing as I am interning with your counselor to move on in my own degree pursit."

Her eyes narrowed, "Very well." Annette's sharp features fell onto her daughter, " Make quick."

"Merci" Meg said and grabbed Raoul's hand as she dragged him down the hall and towards the large auditorium.

Annette slowly shook her head as she watched the two faded down the hallway. Looking around her, the older woman paused as a interesting sensation made its way up her spine, "Meg. You wait for me, something is wrong." She called after her daughter who was stopped not by her own want, but by De Changy as she moved as quickly as her long ago injured knee would allow her.

End of Chapter Four


	6. Chapter Five: Angel of Music

**Strange Angel**

Disclaimer: The Characters in this story don't belong to me, they belong to Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber and others associated. If I had the chance to own anything from Phantom of the Opera it would be Erik…. sighs if only dreams could come true.

**AN: **Thank you all who reviewed and read my story! Here's another chapter, hope you enjoy and keep reviewing! And sorry it took so long with this update, I had to deal with a family crisis.

_**Lyrics**_

_**Indicates the Phantom/Erik speaking**_

_Thoughts_

**Chapter Five:** Angel of Music

Her sobs echoed, the sound returning to her own ears the signal that she was alone here. Slowly she rose from her curled position and looked around slowly, the place… wherever she was, was draped in darkness and shadows. Beneath her hands it was dusty and smelled slightly of wood shavings and that mixed with the musky smell in the air around her creating a most curious perfume.

Soon her eyes were adjusted, and familiar shapes became less ominous and turned into comforting objects. Rows of seats stood vast as the sea low before her. Crimson colored curtains hung on either side of her, the bottom of them covered in dust from being swished back and forth across the floor. Slowly the coldness began to lift as she moved cautiously towards the end of the stage and settled herself at it's edge, her legs dangling over the side.

Her tears seemed never ending, twice since she had figured out her where-abouts, Christine had attempted to cease her tears but with little results as the words of her peers still echoed firmly in her heart and mind, " Oh Angel… have you forgotten me…" Her voice quivered in the darkness as her gaze lifted to the shadowed ceiling, "Or were you just a dream?" For a moment she hesitated, her head tilting as though she might've heard something, but soon it was nothing at all but the sound of silence and her own breathing.

Heaving forth a sigh, Christine stood and moved towards the backend of the stage to leave. Her heart felt heavy, her mind cursing her for having such child-like amusements and fantasies.

…_**Christine…**_

She paused, her body whipping around rapidly, her heart racing… could it be? A moment she waited, her heart and mind fighting within her.

… _**Christine…**_

Came the voice again, this time with a bit more force as though it's source was commanding her to stay, to answer back to it and it alone, "Angel?" She breathed, her voice falling into a sing-song like quality of reverence as she spoke.

… _**I am your Angel… Come to me…**_

Almost instantly she felt herself grow frustrated, "But where are you? I can't see you." Her brown eyes traveled this way and that about the auditorium as she searched for any signs that someone was in fact in here with her. Her petite frame shook slightly in automatic fear of the unknown that seemed to have particular interest in her, " Angel?"

She called out softly, the air around her slowly becoming alive, as though someone had opened a window to let in a strong breeze.

… _**I am your Angel of Music… Come to me Angel…**_

Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, Christine turned and beheld a shadowy figure of a man moving inside the control booth above the auditorium. She felt locked in place suddenly, her mind growing cloudy and her attention captivated as she began to move towards the metal ladder that would lead her up above the stage so she could then access the staircase that would take her to her Angel.

* * *

" Madame! Quick, the door is locked!" Raoul was worried, he didn't care much for Annette's reactions towards her young charge's actions and attitude, she seemed to know something that he and Meg did not. What did she know? His eyes shifted to the woman's daughter, the look in her eyes also seemed to suggest she knew something more than he as well.

As Raoul waited impatiently for her Mother, Meg knocked and pulled frantically at the door. Perhaps Christine would hear the noise and come and let them in not realizing that the stage door had locked behind her, "Christine!" She called out, her fists pounding on the metal of the door, her blue eyes staring through the small slit of a window for any signs of anyone, but hopefully her friend coming to let them inside.

Madame Giry moved as quickly as her age and injuries would let her, as she moved her fingers cursed with arthritis fumbled with a set of keys, searching frantically for the one that would bid them entrance into the darkness of the auditorium, " Here. Move out of my way Meg, she can't hear you." Practically shoving her daughter from the door, Annette shoved the key into the lock, turned and pulled causing the door to creak open, " Quickly. I will look back stage for her. Meg take the audience, and Raoul check the booths upstairs." She directed him towards the ladder to their right as she headed for the costume closets.

"Christine!" Meg called out as she ran up and down the rows of seats.

…_**Christine…**_

"Christine! Where are you!" Madame Giry called as she searched through the endless sea of hanging mothball filled costume racks.

… _**Christine, Come to me…**_

" Little Lotte… where are you?" Raoul called up the ladder as he climbed, his toned frame making quick work of it.

… _**Come to me Angel… Come to me…**_

Shaking, Christine placed a slender hand on the railing of the staircase, " Yes Angel, I hear you, I am coming." She spoke softly, her the words hanging briefly in the air like notes of a song as she began to ascend the narrow winding staircase, the scenario reminding her of her favorite childhood movie, where near the end the princess in a trance slowly climbs a set of stairs remarkably like these and finds the fateful spindle awaiting her at the top.

At this trend of thought, Christine paused in her ascent… what if some sort of doom was awaiting her just like had been awaiting Sleeping Beauty? For a moment she stood silently at war with her common sense which was telling her to turn back, to run and to resist the pull she was feeling in her soul. Her mind was sure this was nothing but some sort of strange dream, that perhaps she had cried herself to sleep on the stage floor, but her heart said otherwise, it wanted to soar to the top and find something there that might make it feel complete.

" Christine! Wait… stop please!"

…_**Christine! Come to me!**_

Shaking her head, Christine swore she heard Raoul's voice… turning her head, her eyes locked with his as she felt a strange cold burst of air sweep by her, causing her to loose her footing and fall backwards with a sharp cry as pain shot from her now twisted ankle.

" Shit." Moving quickly, Raoul caught the young woman as she began to tumble, " Christine… are you okay?" He asked concerned as he turned and began carrying her back down the stairs.

… _**Christine… Christine!**_

That voice again, at first so sad and then full of anger, " I… I don't know." She whispered, her eyes peering in delusional fright over Raoul's shoulder, " I swear I see…" She shook her head and closed her eyes a moment trying to chase away the image of a man standing in the shadows, a white mask staring blankly after her and out-stretched hands.

" What? What do you see…" At the bottom of the stairwell, Raoul slowly lowered his childhood friend to her feet and gazed at her face and into her eyes, " You're white… you look like you've seen a ghost." But each time he looked to long into her wide eyes they shifted quickly to stare behind him. Seeing this, Raoul turned and gazed in the direction she had been only to be greeted by shadows and darkness.

" Raoul… please." Feeling cold, Christine wrapped her arms about herself and looked at the ladder, " Let's just go… get away from here. Please." Slowly she placed a cold hand on his and withdrew it when he shuddered, " Sorry."

Feeling her hand on his and the death like coldness that seemed to grip it, Raoul turned and nodded slowly, " Okay, but I think that once we get down from that ladder we find Madame Giry and get you home. You're not well Christine." Moving passed her, Raoul began to climb down the ladder and motioned for her to follow him down, " Go slow okay."

For a moment she simply stared at him, how dare he say that she was not well! He might as well told her she was going nuts or something a little less nice. Slowly her anger ebbed and she moved to follow him down the ladder, her body still shaking as she turned and began her own descent down the rungs, her eyes glued to a space in the shadows that seemed to suddenly take on a life of it's own, " Angel…" She whispered, her movements coming to a quick stop as the pull she had felt earlier once again began to take hold.

" What was that?" Raoul glanced up as he stepped off the ladder and looked up towards the young woman now frozen in place, " Come on Christine, I'm right below you. Don't be afraid."

Her knuckles were turning white the longer she gripped the rung, her legs however were growing quickly tired of their current position, " Angel?" She asked again, this time a little louder.

" Christine who are you talking too?" His concern was growing rapidly, something wasn't right with his once youthful sweetheart, it was as if someone had broken her and then put her back together haphazardly, " Is someone up there? This isn't funny!" Moving quickly, he began to climb the ladder, anger fueling his strength.

She hung there transfixed as the figure in the shadow became more defined. He stood regal and almost proud, his eyes and expression spoke of sadness and trials many. His dark hair was slicked back leaving a chiseled and strong featured face, though half of it was obscured by a strikingly white mask which seemed to make his thunderous blue eyes dazzle even more then they probably would without it. He was dressed like an old fashioned gentleman that was about to attend a play or a ball, or even an opera. He even had on a customary opera cape and white gloves which were now reaching out to her, calling her to him as was his eyes and his very being.

… _**Christine…**_

She moved upwards, one shoe leaving the rung it had been on to the one just above and forcing her body up as it did so, her hand mimicking the same motion, her fingers reaching to curl around the next rung when suddenly she lost her grip and slipped downwards, " Angel!" Her body collided with Raoul's forcing them both to plummet towards the stage floor as she landed on top of her friend, " Angel…" She whispered before the world went black around her.

" Christine! No!" But it was to late, she had lost her grip and was now forcing them both to crash to the ground below the ladder. Luckily he had been able to keep her from landing any where else but on top of him, " Damnit." He cursed as he sat up and noticed she had fainted. Quickly he picked up her very light frame and went in search of Madame Giry and her Daughter.

End of Chapter Five


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